


when all is said and done

by angryjane



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crowley is So Done (Good Omens), Dialogue Heavy, During Canon, Gen, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Missing Scene, Short, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), adam young is done, anathema device is salty, idk how to tag this, newton pulsifer is confused, uhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-25 23:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20034412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angryjane/pseuds/angryjane
Summary: Missing scene from episode six, right after it's all over.





	when all is said and done

**Author's Note:**

> idk how to write 
> 
> uhhhhhhh my first good omens fic. there will be more to come.

When it as all over, or, as close to over as it  would be getting,  the four children sat off to one side, chatting among themselves \-- Adam laid flat on his back, watching the  clouds, the other three watching over him. Newt and Anathema  watched on, while two strangers bickered. One of them, tall and  brooding and odd, was leaning down  over the other, who fidgeted and smacked his lips all too  much, looking up through  pale lashes at his companion.

The tall one turned toward them suddenly, glaring. Or, Newt figured they were glaring; dark glasses  covered their eyes.

“’ Scuse me, sir. Thank you for saving us, and all,” Newt started, blinking at the person in front of him, “But who are you?”

“The name’s Crowley. That’s  Aziraphale .” They jerked a sharp thumb over their shoulder at the tense man in the suit. 

“Hello, Crowley. Hello,  Aziraphale ,” Anathema said politely with a nod from beside Newt, “Who are you again?”

Like he was snapping from a trance,  Aziraphale perked up. “Oh! Yes, that.” He laughed nervously, fidgeting with his bowtie. “Well, you see, I’m an angel. You know, from Heaven and all that. And Crowley, well.... Crowley is a demon.” Crowley nodded at this, picking at their fingernails. 

“An angel?” Sergeant Shadwell echoed, “Not a witch?”

“No, of course not, Sergeant.”

“So how many nipples do ye got,  laddie ?” 

Aziraphale colored at this, glancing at Crowley. They raised an eyebrow at him, on e corner of their mouth quirking into a smirk, and  Aziraphale looked away quickly, coughing, “Just the average two.”

“A shame, really,  in’t it, Private  Pulsifer ?” 

Newt started. “Oh, uh, yes sir. A shame.” 

Crowley snorted, “I don’t think so.” 

Aziraphale elbowed them, eyes frantic and face standing out red against the white of his suit. 

“What? I’m just saying-”

“Crowley,  _ please.”  _

Crowley only shrugged, and threw an arm over the angel’s shoulders. 

“Why are you here? At the end of the world?” Anathema pushed on. “And why are you two working together? Aren’t you on opposite sides?”

“We’re on our own side, thank you very much , ” The demon hissed, a forked tongue sneaking out of their l i p s , “ A n d w h a t ’ s i t t o y o u , e h ? S a v e d y o u a l l , d i d n ’ t w e ? ”

“No, that was me.” Adam called, still flat on the pavement. Brian and Wensleydale nodded, and Pepper rolled her eyes but stayed silent. 

“No, that was me and Newt. I have the prophecies, and my boyfriend broke the computer making the world detonate itself.” The word  _ boyfriend _ tasted good on her tongue and rolled around between her teeth. “Right, Newt?”

“Uh, right!” Newt, for his part, felt extremely out of his league, like a fish out of water and in the frying pan and on your dinner plate.  Madame Tracy sent  him a reassuring smile, the smile of someone who also did not what was going  on, and understood what you were going through. 

Nodding, Crowley quirked a brow, “Well, that’s all well and good, but  Aziraphale and I have been at this for six thousand years. We’ve been keeping Heaven and Hell form destroying this stupid planet for  _ centuries, millennia _ , darling, and  _ you all _ just happen to be in the right place at the right time. ‘ Cept him, of course.” And a sharp finger extended sharply, from a sharp arm with sharp elbow and sharp wrist, towards the boy, who lay still, smiling at the blue, blue sky, unaware of the sharpness pointed sharply in his direction. Newt decided everything about Crowley was sharp, from speech to looks to eyes. (Except the way they leaned on Aziraphale: that was soft, Newt thought. Unbelievably so.)

“My family has been decoding Agnes’s prophecies since her death. I come from a long line of-”

“Blah blah blah.” The demon scowled. “Why do you humans talk so much? It’s incredibly tiring. Obnoxious, if you will.”

“Crowley!”  Aziraphale scolded, eyebrows furrowed up at his companion, “Don’t be rude, dear.”

“ So are  _ you _ a witch?” Shadwell asked, scratching his head. Crowley scoffed, silent. Shadwell continued to wait. 

“No, I’m not a witch, you dolt. I’m a fucking demon!” 

“Language, darling.”  Aziraphale patted the demon’s arm consolingly, shushing him. 

“What do you mean, you’ve been working on this for the past six thousand years?” Pepper asked, ignoring the other adults to squint at Crowley, “You only look seventy or something.”

“ _ Seventy?  _ Excuse you, I don’t look a day over thirty!”

“Not she’s right, you do look old,” Adam piped up, pulling himself into a sitting position with his knees pulled to his chest. The other three followed suit. 

“Old? I am  _ not _ old, nor do I look it!” the demon wheeled on their partner, eyes pleading, “Do I look old, Aziraphale?”

“Course not, love. I quite like the way you look.” Straightening his tie yet again,  Aziraphale turned towards Anathema. “You said your family has spent the last few eras studying  _ the Nice and Accurate Prophecies _ ?” 

“Yes. I know everything there is to know about the book.” 

“Don’t you think,” Crowley interrupted, because he just couldn’t seem to keep his mouth shut, “That it's odd, really, that everything she predicted was correct except the most important bit? Why didn’t she predict we’d stop the world from ending?” And then, as an afterthought: “By we, I mean  Aziraphale and I. Not this nonsense.” He waved a manicured hand towards the others, and Anathema rolled her eyes.

“Maybe she knew.” Newt tried, “Maybe she knew we’d all be trying to stop it, so she had to tell us it was happening in the first place. You know, so we’d think to stop it.” He shrugged, burying his hands in his pocket. His military-grade witch finding pin poked his finger as he did so.

The others were quiet, mulling it over. It was, most certainly, a very real possibility. 

“I suppose that ought to be what she wanted.” The angel said after a while.  Crowley snorted from beside him, but said nothing, sauntering over to crouch in front of the Antichrist. Adam blinked at them, and they blinked back.

“You’re a clever bugger, you know that, kid?” 

“I know.”

“Good.” They  stood, and gestured for Aziraphale. “Come on, angel. We have places to be.”

“We do?” 

“Yes. Places that are not here. Because your people,” A pause, and a gulp, “and  _ my _ people are cross with us. We need to get out of here.”

“Oh. Right then.”  Aziraphale turned to the Anathema and Newt and bowed a little. “It was lovely meeting you all. Perhaps we will meet again someday under better circumstances, hm?” He looked towards Shadwell and Madame Tracy. “Thank you for your  service , sir, ma’am.”

“My pleasure, sir. Always up for a good witch hunt, eh?”

“ Er .” the angel hesitated, eyes darting towards Anathema before he went on, “Right.”

Crowley looked  boredly on, sneering the slightest bit. Newt raised a hand in a hesitant wave, which was not returned. 

“We’ll be off now.” 

**Author's Note:**

> criticisms would be lovely uwu


End file.
